


Zombie Doctors

by orphan_account



Series: Zombie Doctors [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AH OT6, Other, Zombie AU, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray was never supposed to get bit. He was never supposed to save Ryan, never supposed to get infected, and never supposed to change. Maybe that's what made them so unable to accept it that they'd rather believe in some mystery cure no one had ever heard of working.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombie Doctors

**Author's Note:**

> ResplendentRi came to me with this great idea based off the Zombie Doctor Let’s Plays where instead of a random villager, one of the boys got bit.

Ray had turned in the middle of the night a week after he was bit. His skin was losing it’s color, being overtaken by the sickly green all those infected had. It was more painful than the bite had been, and every moment he felt like he was dying. Which, he guessed, he was. Dying to become another member of the undead horde. His mind was active for every single second of the turn, and he idly wondered if the boys would kill him now. They had refused to kill him when he was still alive and bit, but soon they’d have to reconsider. Zombies didn’t know friend and foe, only food.

That’s what Ray had always thought, at least. Yet two nights after the change, he could still recognize them. He could still look them in the eyes, know they were his boys, and not get the urge to devour them. His brain was still working, and it gave him all the hope in the world. Right to the moment he actually try to talk to them.

"Guuuv.." His mouth couldn’t make the shapes he needed to. He couldn’t call Gavin over, couldn’t tell him he was still here. Couldn’t tell him that there was still a bit of Ray left in the rotting corpse. Going through each of the boys’ names, he was met with the same result. Each name was a groan, a sound of pain that would never pass for English. 

The groaning upset them. It made them draw further away from him at night and refuse to be in the same room as him at night. He couldn’t do anything but watch them pull away, unable to explain himself. His hands shook too much to hold a pen, and whatever he did manage to write always came out as a mad scribble. Even worse, the first time he tried to reach out for any of them he’d scared them.

The plan had just been to get Jack’s attention. To hold his arm and write words across it with his fingers- Jack was smart enough to get he was trying to talk right? If not, Ryan or Geoff would be. He had to tell them. Had to say he loved them one last time- that he’d understand if they were going to kill him. Fuck, even if it was nothing but a ‘hello’ Ray just wanted to talk to them. Instead, when he reached out for Jack’s arm, the man flinched. He stepped back and his hand went down to the diamond pick on his hip like he was afraid he was being attacked.

Ray brought himself outside after that. He sat in the plains and stared at the sky. Would they be able to translate for him? Would it even matter if the boys were scared of him now? Why wouldn’t they just hurry up and kill him? He was so tired after at least a week of frustratingly endless attempts at communication. It was torture to be so close to them, and unable to say or do anything. He watched the sun come up, closed his eyes, and prayed the burning would take him.

It didn’t. Michael caught him sitting outside on fire and freaked out. He was yelled at but Ray didn’t respond to it at all- what was the point? Michael wouldn’t understand him anyways. The water dumped over his head felt like nothing. He couldn’t feel the fire, he couldn’t feel the fire, all he could feel was the hope he’d gained leaving him. They build a dirt house around him that day, and he refused to move as they worked. If he was lucky, one of the blocks would break and he’d be buried there. He wasn’t lucky.

There was no way to keep track of time in his dirt cave. There were no openings, nothing but a torch and endless dirt piled all around him to protect him from something he wasn’t sure they should have. Death would have been painless, and stopped their worry that he’d attack them. Ray sat against the back wall, staring straight forward, and wondered if it was possible for a zombie to suffocate. After a while, Ryan’s voice comes from just outside his new home. 

"I’m so sorry Ray. If I’d been more careful, none of this would have happened. At the very least, you’d be inside with the others instead of lusting for human livers." A dry laugh, one that sounds a little too tight. "Listen, I’m going to sit with you today..But tomorrow I won’t be here. We’re going to help you. I was looking in the old library by that village up north and..There’s a cure. God I hope it works. I miss you so much. I’m so fucking sorry Ray."

Zombies don’t sleep. That’s what Ray learns as he sits, staring at the same dirt block he’d been staring at since he was first covered. There’s nothing at all to tell him what’s going on, but he knows Ryan has to have left at some point because the words and apologies stopped coming. Michael took his place, and Ray’s not sure when that had happened.

"You’re such a fucking idiot, you know that?" Michael tells him from outside, and Ray wonders if it’s raining yet. Would his roof drip if it rained? "You just had to go and get yourself bit. Just had to go get in trouble because you’re such a damn hero. There had to be some way to get you both out without getting bit by the one zombie in an open forest, Ray. But..Thanks. For helping Ryan. I’m not sure that if he was the one bit we’d know about this magical cure. It sounds fake as shit. Like someone wanted to pull a prank and watch their enemies die. Hey Ray? If you really are a superhero, do me a favor. Make sure the damn thing works because I’m lost without you."

He’s built a tiny hill out of loose dirt in front of him by the time Michael leaves. When he’d started building it, there’d been a reason he’d been pulling dirt to him. It can’t have been that important though, because he can’t remember it. All he can remember is that he should be able to feel the coarse dirt and should be able to feel the slices against his fingers from the occasional sharp rock. He doesn’t. The only proof that there’s even any are the little cuts down his fingers. Zombies don’t bleed. Gavin takes Michael’s place while Ray is staring at his hand and trying to remember what fresh blood looks like.

"They keep talking about how we’re going to save you, X-Ray." Gavin says and Ray crawls closer- the Brit’s voice sounds so quiet. "That we’re going to get this damn apple thing and magically fix you. I’m not as dumb as everyone seems to think I am, you know. I know you’re gone. I know you’re dead. That you’re not coming back from this- no matter what other impossible things we’ve made it through before. You’re dead. you’re dead and I just-"

Ray can hear the sobbing and it pains him more than any loss of communication. Desperately, he claws at the dirt block in front of him. He needs it to go away. He needs to get to Gavin and tell him it’s okay. That Ray’s not dead and that everything will be okay. Even if it’s a lie, he needs to do it because Gavin doesn’t cry.

"I miss you. I guess I’ll miss you forever. I love you- I loved you. I loved you so much. You know, I realized I’ve never actually told you all this before. It’s hard to say this sort of stuff. I wish I could have said this stuff while you were alive. Maybe you would have wanted to hear it."

Gavin is still crying and Ray wants to cry now too. He can’t. Zombies don’t have functioning ear ducts. Nor do they have hands strong enough to dig through dirt. Ray’s right hand looks like he’s becoming a skeleton by the time Gavin’s stopped crying and left. Jack replaces him, and Ray realizes he’s beginning to forget what they actually look like.

"Hey baby. I hope you’re holding up well in there. You won’t have to be in there much longer. I promise. Soon we’ll have you out of there- all we need right now is to go to the nether. Geoff and Ryan are working on building the portal. Michael and Gavin are working on getting the gear. So you just need to hold on a little longer, okay? Just long enough for us to get to the nether and back. Then it’ll all be fine." Jack’s voice rambles on.

Ray stops listening. It doesn’t sound like he’s being talked to. It sounds like Jack is trying to reassure himself that this will work. He understands, he has his own doubts. Though- what was wrong with him? Why was Jack panicking so badly? By the time Jack leaves, Ray’s stomach is growling at him. God, he’d kill for a piece of meat. He only realizes that someone has taken Jack’s place when the dirt block he’s so used to staring at is removed.

It’s day time. The sun is so bright it makes his eyes burn, but there’s no fire on him this time. Standing in front of the new hole and blocking the sun is a man. He smells delicious, and Ray’s first thought is to jump through the window and tear into his throat. The man starts to talk and Ray startles because it’s Geoff. He’d nearly attacked Geoff. Feeling sick to his stomach, whatever the other says is lost because he can’t stop thinking about how he was going to attack Geoff- and he’s not sure he won’t try later.

Geoff leaves with the sun and Ray wants to leave too. To follow the human, catch him, and finally have something to eat. He wonders if zombies can die of starvation while he watches the moon disappear from his small window. No one comes to visit him when the sun reappears. No one comes and by the time the sun’s come back for the third time, Ray isn’t sure why he’s waiting. Or why he’s in a prison of dirt. He should be out hunting.

After what feels like years but he knows is only days, Ray watches a small group approach his dirt home. There’s four of them, and he can’t help but think he could easily take one of them out. He could easily bite one, hold it down, and feast until his stomach stopped complaining. Despite wanting to pounce immediately, he waits. Something itches in the back of his head-he’s not sure if it’s the familiar feeling the group brings him or if it’s the way his skin has been wanting to fall away.

One of the men comes closer and Ray watches him carefully. He’s got a beard, a glowing gold apple in his hand, and enough meat on him to feed Ray for at least a week. He just needs to wait until the idiot gets close enough to bite. The sun is still out- if he tries to leave his prison to catch his prey he’ll die. He doesn’t have an explanation for why he’s not sure that burning is bad. The man moves the dirt block under the window and makes a door- Ray smirks. Or tries to. His muscles won’t listen.

More than anything in the world, he wants to eat. He wants to tear the man in front of him to shreds and feast upon them. Something stops him. The same itch in the back of his head. The human is talking now but Ray can’t understand him. He can understand the fear in the voice- and the way the shaking hand offers him the apple. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, Ray leans to bite the man’s fingers. He misses as the arm is jerked down and he ends up biting the apple instead.

It’s heavenly upon his tongue and smooth down his throat but it makes the itch in his head worse. So much worse. He falls down, sitting back behind his dirt hill, and grasps at his head. There has to be a way to make it stop, if he clenches his hands against his temples tight enough. There has to be a way to make it stop, if he scratches where it itches. Nothing makes the pain go away, but his fussing makes the bearded man retreat and replace the dirt. He rejoins the group, sitting with the lanky one who’s crying.

The one with the curly hair comes to the window. He screams. He screams so loud and it makes Ray’s head hurt even worse. It feels like someone is stabbing him with a diamond sword from the inside out. The man is still yelling, complaining that “it should have worked!” and “God damn it Ray, turn the fuck back!”. It takes an hour for him to stop screeching, his voice is hoarse as he finally turns away. A fifth human joins their group and once he sees Ray, he keeps repeating the same two words “I’m sorry”.

Ray’s sure they mean something important, but he can’t remember that. He can’t think around the pain. When the night comes, the group leaves and Ray misses them. It feels like something has been torn out without them there and he can’t figure out what the fuck that means. For four days, he sits in the corner by the torch and watches the sun rise. Every time he does, he prays that it takes him and rids him off the headache. When it rises on the fifth day, Ray lays down. He closes his eyes and, for the first time in a long time, he sleeps.

He wakes up to a full moon and the sound of nearby creepers. His stomach hurts, he’s so hungry. All he wants is some bread. Or some cookies. Or a piece of cake. Hell, even a potato. Anything but meat. Even the very thought of it makes him sick. Ray calls out, and he nearly cries when it doesn’t come out as a groan.

"Hello?" Ray cries, his voice raspy and dry. "Hello!"

No one answers him. Even the creepers have moved on from this area. Cautiously, Ray takes the torch off the wall and is surprised by his hands. They’re not green. There’s no cuts along them, no skin drooping, nothing missing, and he can feel each and every muscle in them reply to his will. He’s cured. The golden apple had actually worked. Carefully he places the torch on the wall by the window and stares down the dirt block there. Taking a deep breath, he pushes it and laughs when it moves. He can leave. He can go home, see the boys, and show them everything is fine. With the block gone, he steps out into the open air.

Ray has no idea where the base is from here anymore. He could swear it was North, but it could be West. Deciding that standing around at the dirt is getting him no where, he heads west first. He spends the days going as far as he can, and hides in structures of dirt at night. They should feel suffocating, but they don’t. They feel safe. He uses them as the majority of his protection against mobs. He makes what he can as he goes, eating whatever he can find that day. Eventually, he even starts killing cows and eating steak again. It keeps him alive and gives him enough energy to walk a little further each day.

It takes a month for him to find the house again. He’d been right with his first guess, it’d been North of the plains that had been his home while he was turned. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of the building still standing. If he’s lucky, they haven’t had time to move. He’s never been lucky before, but even if they’ve moved there’ll be a map inside. As he moves closer, he keeps a look out for any sign that they’re there.

Gavin is standing outside and Ray feels the air rush out of his lungs at the sight of the lad. Before he can think about it, he’s running to get his arms wrapped around him as quickly as possible. He doesn’t stop fast enough and the two of them fall to the ground- sliding a little down the grass- but he doesn’t care. Gavin’s here, and Ray’s made it out alive. Gavin squawks but Ray laughs and holds him tighter, tears slipping down his face.

Michael nearly kills him by accident. Alerted by Gavin’s call of terror, he’d run up from the mine and had his diamond sword out. He stares at the two of them for a full minute in shock before he calls Ray an asshole and helps them both up, keeping them as close as possible. Ray doesn’t miss the way Michael’s hand lingers over his pulse like he’s not actually sure the other is alive. 

Jack is the first gent to investigate the commotion outside. When he sees Ray, he just freezes. There’s no real response there and even when Michael and Gavin try to get Jack to talk to them, there’s nothing but an unbelieving face staring straight at Ray. Jack doesn’t snap out of it until Geoff calls down to ask him what’s wrong. When he doesn’t answer, the other comes down to see for himself.

Geoff stares at Ray for what feels like as long as Jack had, but there’s no disbelief in his face. Only anger and debate. Ray feels like he’s done something wrong by coming back and he can’t shake the feeling. Especially when Geoff disappears back into the house. Maybe they hadn’t actually wanted him to come back- not when they’d accepted he’d been dead for so long already. Geoff comes back with an exhausted looking Ryan.

Ryan rubs at his eyes for a solid ten seconds before looking at Ray again. Then he moves forward, checks his pulse, and sighs. He smiles warily to Jack and Geoff, motioning them to come forward, and pulls Ray against his chest. “I’m so sorry.” Ryan keeps whispering in Ray’s ear, his arms shaking and tears soaking the top of Ray’s head.

"It’s not like you were the one who got bit, Ry. Thanks for bringing me back." Is the first thing Ray says to any of them. He never brings up the fact that he could understand them, could remember them, could control himself for a while after he’d turned to them. Not until Matt comes begging for help- Jeremy’s been bit.


End file.
